Listen for the Knock
by Azrael - the Dark Archangel
Summary: Everything in life has a price. I thought I wouldn’t have to pay, but even now, so close to the end, the pain continues. My mind wanders, and I drift on a sea of memories, back to when this all began. To the first time I saw him. Zexion… AU


_A.N. Ladies and gentlemen, I'm back! Progress on chapter 8 of FitB continues, but as this English assignment was written with 6 & 9 in mind, I thought I would post an altered version up here. Enjoy!_

_Pairings: Onesided ?_x_Zexion, slight hints of dark Zemyx_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, Kingdom Hearts 2 or anything associated. They all belong to Square Enix. And the fic by which I was inspired, 'Outside Your Window', isn't mine either. It belongs to Ayumi Elric._

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_Pain. Everything is pain now, a sharp throbbing that seems to come from deep inside my bones. This pain is mine alone, but they say telling it to others makes it easier. Continue if you wish, but remember that there is a price to pay for everything. I thought I wouldn't have to pay, but even now, so close to the end, the pain continues._

_My mind wanders, and I drift on a sea of memories, back to when this all began. To the first time I saw him. Zexion…_

Demyx stared at the book, interested despite himself. He didn't usually read this sort of thing, but this book sounded intriguing. He normally avoided horror, but decided to make an exception, as the book was fairly cheap.

Stepping out into the sunshine, Demyx started walking towards home, his sitar case heavy on his back. Opening the gate, he stepped into his driveway and walked over to the porch.

As he fumbled with the keys, he heard gravel crunch behind him, turning swiftly and seeing a flicker of black out of the corner of his eye. Dismissing it as one of the ravens that hung around the neighbourhood he stepped inside, and settled down on the sofa to read.

_I had just started college, and I was all alone in the city; no family, no friends, just my music, my violin and the clothes on my back. I hadn't composed in months, for my inspiration had dried up, and my technique had become decidedly rusty. My one skill, my only hope for earning money was as good as hopeless. I'd be lucky if I made it through the month._

_But then I saw him, and everything changed. I didn't know his name at first, and I wouldn't meet him until much later, but just by looking at him the world turned on its head, and my inspiration came rushing back. That night I wrote a violin concerto, and sold it to the local orchestra the next day._

_I continued to work feverishly, solos, duets, and concertos pouring out from my pen. The money flooded in, and I should have been happy. But for some reason, deep down inside, I wasn't…_

As he put the book away, Demyx smiled, happy that the book was living up to his expectations. Pulling out his sitar, he started to play, picking out a mournful air that suited his mood. As his fingers danced across the strings, he let his gaze wander idly around the room, taking in the antiques and musical paraphernalia scattered around his living room.

With an ugly chord, the music stopped as Demyx gazed at the silvered mirror in the corner in shock. For an instant, he could have sworn he'd seen a face gazing out at him. It had only been for a split second, but he remembered dark hair, and pale skin. And the eyes, black eyes, cold, deep and empty.

Demyx shuddered, and put his sitar away. Going outside, he picked up an armful of firewood and kindled the cast-iron stove. Making himself a cup of coffee, he returned to the sofa, and began to read again. Taking a moment to admire the melodies that swirled around the margins and corner, he settled back into the story.

_It wasn't long before I became curious, and my initial vague pondering gave rise to true interest. Who was the man I'd seen, the sight of whom had revitalized my music. And changed it too, come to think of it, for where my melodies had once bounced and leapt, now they were darker. I couldn't think of a single piece I'd written since moving to the city that wasn't wistful at the least, if not downright mournful._

_But at college, the next day, something bizarre happened. We got a new teacher for Theory of Composition. There he was, unaware of what he'd done for me. And that was when I learned his name. Zexion Sable. _

_After the first time he played for us in class, a piano concerto he created on the spot to illustrate a point, I was determined. I would create a concerto dedicated to him, and then, maybe he would realize how important he was to me._

_I went home that night, and started to work, finding it easier than I ever had before. The concerto started to take form, and I could practically hear it coming together in my mind. I started to see him, walking near my house, watching me in the corner of my eye, staring at me through mirrors. And then I discovered I couldn't leave…_

A faint knock on the window, and Demyx sat upright, heart speeding up. Telling himself it was probably just a branch, he walked over and pulled the curtain across. Outside, dark eyes gazed coldly in at him as he screamed, staggering backwards and tripping over his own feet as he did so.

Ravens croaked outside as they flew off, and he smiled in relief, the black feathers inside his silhouette on the window having tricked his eyes. Demyx sighed ruefully; the book was playing havoc with his already overactive imagination. Getting out of the living room, he defied his tired eyelids and settled into his bed, continuing to read.

_It was somewhat disconcerting at first, when the need for food and drink faded. The last memory I had of school was Zexion tripping over mid-lecture, and his hand seeming to pass through the pulpit. Eventually, the need for sleep faded too, and the only reason I went out was to buy new pens. _

_Eventually the day came when even that short separation from my masterpiece become torture, and I no longer left the apartment, consumed with my work. Instead, I used an old quill I had lying around and wrote in my own blood._

_It's nearly finished now, and my head begins to clear. I write the last notes onto the page and I can feel the haze of pain lift. I'm free. And suddenly I hear a knock on the door, and a dark mist rises underneath, swirling into the shape of a body._

_Zexion smiles, and my body explodes with pain, red-hot knives tearing me apart. I look into those empty eyes as I feel blood seep out of my chest and I realize; now that you know his secret…you're next. Listen for the knock._

A sudden knock on the door shook Demyx out of his shock, and he lay the book down on the bed, the last page empty. Puzzled, he stared at the door, trying to figure out who would have a key and would be visiting this late at night.

Dark mist seeped through the crack under the door, and cold empty eyes stared down at him.

"You were warned there was a price."

Demyx stumbled backwards in terror from the pale hand reaching out towards him.

Zexion gave an empty smile

"Feel free to scream."

Demyx screamed.

_And so it all began. All those who discover my secret share the same fate. You knew there was a price from the moment you started reading. You dared to cross the line, and now it's your turn. Listen for the knock. It'll be one of the last things you hear._

_Feel free to scream._

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What did you think? Loved it? Hated it? Tell me your opinion. 

Many thanks to Malik's Bunny Mika, my ever faithful beta.

Azrael


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